


Bobbing for Bobbies

by merelypassingtime



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Crack, Did I mention fluff?, Fluff, M/M, Understanding Greg, Virgin Mycroft, porn industry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 01:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: When Mycroft reasons that the best way to have sex for the first time would be by being in a porn movie he is lucky enough to have Greg there to do the interview.





	Bobbing for Bobbies

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as my second try at smut writing but then it turned into pure fluffy fluff. I think I may have a fluff problem.

When Mycroft saw the dingy little waiting room he almost walked right back down the three flights of stairs and out into the arguably cleaner and safer street. 

He remained unsure of the wisdom of this little venture and that uncertainty weighed heavily on his mind, he was not used to being anything but absolutely assured about the right course in any situation. This however had been a decision based more on unquantifiable emotions than on hard facts and Mycroft was not at all conversant in matters of emotion. That was actually one of the more compelling reasons he had to go through with this.

Somehow that carefully considered and bullet-pointed list of reasons seemed a lot less concrete now than they had last night in his safe comfortable dorm room.

He took a deep breath, regretted it as the reek of industrial strength pine cleaner and the underlying hint of mildew it didn't quite conceal permeated his lungs, and forced himself to stride into the waiting room with more confidence than he truly felt. If he left off now he knew that he would likely never find the temerity to try again and this was something Mycroft needed to understand.

As he took a seat in one of the cheap molded plastic chairs as far as possible from the few other people waiting he reminded himself of the string of errors he had made recently in predicting how a given person would respond to his manipulations and how all of those had centered around just one factor: Sex. Sex clearly motivated a vast majority of people in one way or another and Mycroft had come to the inescapable conclusion that he must be missing some crucial point of data in regards to it. He could not stand being ill-informed about anything, let alone something so important. Besides, now his curiosity was peaked.

So he had formed a plan. The idea of seeking out a casual one night stand had been quickly discarded as being both too likely to result in some sort of emotional entanglement and being unlikely to provide the best example of a sexual experience. Hiring a rent boy for an evening had been given more thought but ultimately the higher risk of one having a STI or targeting him for theft had ruled that out as well. Instead he had decided that the safest way to insure that he would have a good quality sexual experience with the greatest amount of guaranteed safety would be for him to be cast in a porn movie. 

It was a bit unorthodox but the actors in such films were regularly tested for disease and were undeniably skilled. All acts would be planned out and agreed upon before happening and there would be constant supervision to make sure nothing got out of hand. Indeed something about having other people there to watch had appealed to Mycroft on a less rational level, even now surrounded by harsh reality thinking about it sent a thrill up his spine and he couldn't stop a small shudder from coursing though his body. 

Quickly he glanced around to see if anyone else had seen the movement and was surprised to find the room now empty. Apparently while he had been lost in thought the other occupants had been called back. He was next.

Even as he thought that the door on the opposite wall swung open, freezing all the blood in his veins even as another thrill ran up his spine. A very fit man only a couple of years older than himself stepped into the room with a clipboard. He had lovely chestnut hair and when his warm brown eyes met Mycroft's the smile he gave him was pure charm with a strong hint of mischief. Instantly Mycroft hoped that this would be the actor he would be paired with for the film. Of course given what he had read about what the casting call for a porn movie would most likely entail that might not even be necessary. Mycroft felt a smile to match the other man's spread across his face.

“Well, looks like you are my last one for today,” the man said, still smiling. “You ready?”

Mycroft stood, automatically moving to smooth out the creases in his trousers before remembering that he had worn jeans today in an attempt to appear more normal. He ended up settling for nervously straightening the hem of the tee shirt he wore, but the nod he gave the man was sure and steady.

The man gestured towards the open red door, “Then if you'll just come through here we'll get started.” 

Squaring his shoulders and ignoring his tingle of nerves Mycroft stepped into the room beyond.

\-----

Greg managed to usher the latest candidate out of the small interview room's second door and out of the production office before he slumped against the wall for just a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even with only part of his course work in criminal justice behind him Greg couldn't help but notice the track marks of a long time drug addict and the clearly fake ID, things that made the last fifteen minutes he had spent taking down an application they could never use a waste of time. 

He sighed before pushing off the wall and heading back through the interview room towards the waiting room. At least, he reflected as he trudged along, that skill at spotting trouble meant he got to be here in the office doing interviews instead of being out at the studio with everyone else being yelled at by arsehole 'actors' the way he spent most of his days as a PA. When his mates made comments about how lucky he was to get to work on porn movies for a living he laughed in their faces. 

It looked like this day might end on a bit of a high note though, when he poked his head back out into the waiting area the gorgeous red head he had been eying was still there, sitting almost primly on one of the chairs and looking impossibly good. Greg didn't know who the guy thought he was fooling with the casual clothes when every line of his too upright bearing and the arrogance that seemed set into his features all but screamed public school. 

God, but Greg always did have a soft spot for the posh ones. 

Nervously he ran his hand through his hair and smiled, saying, “Well, looks like you are my last one for today. You ready?” When the boy, and for all the rigid posture and hauteur Greg could not think of him as a man, just stood up with a nod he continued, “Then if you'll just come through here we'll get started.”

Greg led the way into the interview room taking the seat behind the folding table that along with a couple of metal filing cabinets comprised the room's sole furnishings. He was pretty sure the lack of an additional chair was do to the production company's cheapness and not an intentional move to make the person being interviewed feel uncomfortable but it still worked that way most of the time. This boy seemed mostly immune though, standing there calmly with only the restless movement of his eyes giving away any anxiety while Greg shuffled the papers on his clipboard to a blank form and took up his pen.

“Alright, we are just going to go through a quick questionnaire, all very basic information. If you have any questions or feel uncomfortable at any point feel free to stop me, okay?”

The boy's very blue eyes ceased their wild darting around the room, settling on Greg and he did seem to relax before he nodded again.

“Name?” Greg started.

“John Doe,” was the wry reply, and Greg was unsurprised but completely gratified by the smooth, cultured voice that rolled out of that slightly gawky frame. He fought the urge to shift in his seat at the power and promise of those two small words. He reflected that given a bit more time to grow into that voice this boy was going to be devastating.

“Well 'Mr Doe,'” Greg made quotation marks around the name, “You do know that I am going to have to check your ID before you leave, right?”

“Fine. My name is Mycroft Holmes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And my ID will bear that out.”

“Huh, no. I don't doubt it, the name suits you.” Greg said with a smile.

He got a small smile in return, “Thanks, I think.” Then, looking nervous, Mycroft demanded “Of course my real name will be kept in he strictest of confidence, correct?”

“Oh, yeah. All our actors use screen names.”

“And I will be allowed to select my own?”

“Why? Do you have one in mind?”

“I rather thought I would be Mr Come Flys Hot.”

Greg frowned, “That is weird.”

“But memorable.”

“I guess, but that is so... specific. Why that name in particular if you don't mind me asking?”

“Well, if you must know it is a play on words.”

Dumbly Greg started repeating, “A play on...” before an idea hit him and he glanced down at the name that was the only thing he had written in on the form in front of him. “Oh, I see. An anagram. Smart.”

“Yes, I have always been the smart one.”

“And modest as well, I see. The ego should help you fit right in even if the brains don't.”

“I wasn't exactly expecting to either fit in or find a great deal of wit here.”

“Ta ever so much.” Greg said dryly.

“No, that is not what I meant,” and to Greg's delight a blush spread across the young man's face as he stammered on. “You've been unexpected kind and I certainly did not think that anyone would spot the anagram. You have exceeded all my exceptions and I don't even know your name.”

Greg felt a bit of heat on his face and he blessed his darker complexion, hoping it would hide his own blush. “Oh, sorry! I am Greg,” he said, resisting an impulse to reach out for a handshake. “Greg Lestrade. Good to meet you, Mycroft.”

“My pleasure,” Mycroft replied, then he blushed darker, flustered at his choice of words. He hurried on, “Greg Lestrade. Your name suits you too. Is that your real name or your stage name?”

“Stage-” Greg started, about to repeat the words 'stage name' before he realized that this boy thought he was an actor. “Oh, no,” he began again, planning to explain he was just a lowly PA and all around dog's body, before he stopped again. He found that he desperately didn't want Mycroft to know that he was a nobody yet so with only the slightest pause he continued, “Greg is my real name.” which was technically true.

“I thought as much, it is a name too dignified to sound very porn-worthy. What is your stage name?”

“Er,” Greg hedged. “I haven't settled on one. Amazingly enough Dick Poundswell and Roc Bottom were both taken.”

“Pity, I am sure either one would suit you.” Mycroft said, and while the tone was arch the smile that accompanied it was heartrendingly shy.

Greg grinned back, and he found himself lost in that moment and all the lovely contradictions of this boy. Finally Mycroft looked down, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat and the spell was broken. Greg did a little throat clearing of his own and looked down at the paperwork again. 

He decided to skip the next few questions, knowing that he could get things like age and address when he made a copy of Mycroft's ID later. Instead he moved into the second, more interesting section.

“Okay, so it looks like we are casting for a couple of different movies right now. Were you interested in being in 'Anal-iens,' 'Bobbing for Bobbies,' or 'Bears to Barely Legals 3?'”

“'Bobbing for Bobbies,'” was the quick reply.

“Okay. That is purely a blow job film. You do know that you would be required to give as well as receive the blow jobs?”

The blush was back, but Mycroft answered levelly, “Of course.”

“Just checking, you'd be amazed how many people think that being in a porn is just about getting paid for other people to pleasure you. Now, I am going to list the sorts of acts that maybe required of you on set, you'll need to let me know if there are any you aren't willing to do.”

The list was quite long and by the end of it Mycroft's face was bright scarlet and he looked close to panic. Greg prompted him, “Were there any terms you weren't familiar with?”

“Um, what is bukkake?”

“That is when several men cover one man in their come.”

Mycroft blanched, his cheeks going from red to white so fast Greg worried he was going to faint. His voice was noticeably weaker as he asked, “And what is a cream pie?”

“That is actually not likely to come up on a blow job movie. Look, maybe it would be easier if you told me what you have done and we'll work around that.”

When the boy hesitated a bit too long, Greg connected the pieces. “You've not had sex at all, have you?” The averted gaze was all the answer Greg needed. “Oh God, you haven't.”

“That doesn't mean I don't know what I am doing! I assure you that I have a great deal of theoretical knowledge and I am more than capable...”

Greg cut him off, “I am sure that is true but...” and he trailed off, trying to find the right words to stop this kid from throwing himself to the wolves Greg knew ran the porn industry.

Unfortunately Mycroft took the silence as a challenge and Greg watched stunned as he defiantly pulled his tee shirt over his head, exposing his marble pale chest and an endearing bit of tummy fat. When he started to fumble with the button of his jeans Greg found his voice, “Whoa, stop! What are you doing?!”

“What? Just because I haven't any experience you think I didn't know what trying out for a porn would entail? Everyone knows casting is just an excuse to have sex with all the applicants.”

“No! Well, I mean, obviously yes, a lot of the time but that is usually the second interview and not the one they have the company PA do.”

“PA?! I thought you were an actor.”

“No, I am blood not. I am just here to fetch coffees and get all the actual information on our actors so the director can take advantage of them at the second interview. Not that I would ever want in on that.”

“I don't understand then. Want do you want?” Mycroft said and Greg could tell it was hurting him to admit to his ignorance. 

He stood up and moved around the desk. “Look here,” he said, bending down to pick the boy's tee shirt off the ground and handing it back to him. “Put this back on and let me explain something to you.

“You don't want this. Whatever you think, whatever your theoretical knowledge is telling you, porn is awful. It is unrealistic and dehumanizing. The actors are arses and the director is worse, they aren't going to care how you are feeling or if you are even aroused as long as they get their shot.

“You deserve so much more. You deserve to have a first time with someone who cares about you and who will make it good.”

“But caring is not an advantage.”

“Bollocks.” Greg said with feeling. “Besides, you can never know that for sure if you don't give caring a try.”

“That is actually a good point.” Mycroft sounded musing, “But I am afraid it is also a moot point, I am never going to find find someone who will care.”

“Don't sell yourself short.”

“I am not, I have clear evidence from the last eighteen plus years that such a person does not exist.”

“You are wrong.”

“You can't know that.”

“Yes, I can. Here,” Greg said, and he snatched the paper off the top of the clipboard with enough force to rip it across one corner. Then he stomped to the paper shredder next to the filing cabinets and fed the single sheet in. When it was done he turn back toward Mycroft and declared, “Okay, now this never happen. And for all anyone knows we could be two strangers meeting on the street for the first time.”

“Okay,” Mycroft said, looking puzzled.

“Do you want to go and get a cup of coffee?”

“What?”

“Would you like to get some coffee with me. Or tea maybe.”

“I don't need your pity.” he said coldly, his eyes full of hurt.

“And you don't have it. You are bloody gorgeous, funny and I would like nothing more than to take you out for a good cuppa.” and here Greg made sure to meet the younger boy's eyes, hoping he could see the sincerity in his own.

It must have worked because, sounding slightly dazed Mycroft answered, “Oh, okay. I mean, of course. That would be lovely.”

Greg smiled at him and resisted the desire to plant a kiss on his cheek afraid it would be too much too fast. Instead he gestured at the shirt Mycroft still held and said, “Great, now put that back on and I'll close up here and we can go have our coffee.”

Mycroft blushed again at that, and Greg had a second to admire the color blooming on that pale chest before Mycroft moved to put the shirt on. He sighed dramatically as shirt was pulled down, and the blush deepened. 

Greg decided that he would leave the filing and cleaning up for tomorrow and settled for just flicking off all the lights and locking the doors behind them as he showed Mycroft out to the stairs. As they walk down them together Mycroft tentatively reached out a hand and Greg was more than happy to hold it in his own.


End file.
